The Land of Verdendom
by Rushien-kun
Summary: Peter and his newly-made friends are taken to a new world. There they find Adventure, Magic, Fame-- Peter even gets to found his own job class! But in the end, will they choose fantasy or reality? Read and find out.
1. A Beginning at the End

**Disclaimer:** Everyone else has one, so I guess I'll have a disclaimer too, even though posting on a site with a name such as this one would be enough to protect me from all penalties, I would think. Anyway, on with it! I did not make up the four other races besides Human, the principle towns of the fantasy country, or the job classes and their abilities (most of them, at least). These ideas, or whatever you want to term them, are owned by Square-Enix.

There, all done! Now for my prefatory remarks.

Hi to everyone reading this story! This is my first fanfiction, so please tell me what you think about it. I've always liked the idea of FFTA fanfictions, because with a new world, your very own clan, tons of different missions, and a variety of diverse job classes, you've got a very customizable story that really tugs at your imagination. My land is called Verdendom because, since it's only made out of the characters dreams, it should be what _they_ think is a fitting name for a fantastic fantasy world. Anyway, please enjoy this story!

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** The Land of Verdendom**

Chapter 1: A Beginning at the End

Peter's mind was working so quickly that he could hardly understand his thoughts. This was the Annual Summervale Teen Picnic and he was ready to have a great time! Everyone had said they were going. Peter had only just moved to Summervale a few months before, and so only knew everyone at a superficial level, and much of what he did know was what everybody had told him about each other.

Hurrying toward the clearing, he checked again to make sure that he had brought everything he had meant to; Icebox full of drinks, soccer ball, book, all there.

As he entered the clearing, he hesitated and looked around. It seemed like most everyone was already there, even though it was only 10 'o' clock. Three guys were showing off their guns. Peter was pretty sure that their names were Lincoln, Mike, and Kamil; two guys were wrestling in the grass while some girls cheered from the sidelines (Oh, There's Kate, she was pretty nice to me, Peter thought); Several people, whose names were on the tip of Peter's tongue, were sitting at a table talking to and laughing with each other; Three pairs of boys and girls were starting a Virginia Reel, a girl playing the Violin for them (That girl, her name's... something-anne, he thought); And Stephen (Peter's older brother) and two guys Peter knew as Austin and Jason were competing with each other for the best handstand. There were so many other people too.

Peter hesitated a bit longer, and then jogged over to a table where he saw Lacy, Annika, a girl whose name he didn't remember, and Anne waving to him.

"Hey there," he greeted, "Can a lonely traveler join this party?"

"Sure, but only if he brings some good stuff!" The girl answered brightly.

"How about fruit juice? I've brought both Strawberry Kiwi and Cranberry Raspberry, two gallons each."

"Perfect." Lacy said as she grabbed the two-gallon container of cran-razz. Peter snatched it back from her.

"This is for people who play sports." he informed her.

She looked offended. "I do."

"Today." he clarified.

"I already have." she insisted.

"Oh really?" He asked skeptically.

"Yeah, I threw a napkin into the trash basket."

Peter narrowed his eyes at her and then continued. "Also, I brought a soccer ball."

"Awesome," Anne said. "Ian promised to bring a volleyball set, but he won't show up until 4 'o' clock.'

"What!?" Peter exclaimed. "When has it been like Ian to be late for a party?"

"Hey Peter," Annika interrupted, "What's that book?"

"Oh this? I'll show you later on, when Ian's here. It's awesome, and I know he'd like it."

The day was perfect. The sun kept them warm while the wind kept them cool. They played soccer till Ian came, and then set up the volleyball net. More people then joined them, but there were still many others doing a ton of things all around them. Joe was playing a tune on his guitar, A girl was reading out her latest piece of fiction, a guy was displaying some computer art he had made and printed out, and Austin was juggling four tennis balls. Peter stopped to watch him, only to be hit on the head by the volley ball; _and_ one of Austin's tennis balls. ("Austin, you need way more practice! I'm 10 ft. away, for pity's sake!") Luckily a girl on his team took full advantage of the situation by hitting the volleyball back to the other side of the court, where everybody was on the ground, laughing too hard to do anything else.

Just before twilight they stopped playing volleyball. Then everybody took out what food he or she had brought and started eating. People talked as they ate, and there was a feeling of contentedness among them.

"Hey Peter," Ian said, "How about that book you brought along? Can we see it now?"

'Oh sure," Peter answered. "Just let me get my tent up first. The light's fading quickly, and we can read it in there." After two failed attempts and a little help from Ian and Lacy, Peter had his tent up and invited them inside. They turned on the lantern overhead and sat down with Lacy in the middle, the book in her hands. She looked at the beautifully elaborate cover for a minute, then flipped it open and started rifling through the first several pages.

"I found this at a little cornershop bookstore while I was on an errand, getting a few out-of-print books for my dad." Peter explained. "The owner said he thought it was very old, probably from B.C. times. But books were scrolls back then, and besides that, the pages don't even break when you touch them too firmly. It's weird." He ended in a slightly awed tone.

"Hey look, pictures!" Lacy exclaimed delightedly, "That's good, because these letters don't look even remotely familiar to ours." Then, upon hearing Anne's voice going by outside, she called to her, saying, "Hey Anne, come in here! Peter's showing me the book he had earlier." Anne entered, with Joe beside her, whom she had just been talking to.

"Rockin'." Joe said as sat down beside them.

Lacy found a page spread with a picture on each page, both of men. The first had a soldier's beret and a cloak fastened at the neck, with a broadsword at his side. The second was wearing a cone shaped hat with a rim, and he was holding a bow in his hands and had a quiver of arrows on his shoulder.

Kate called through the tent, "Hey, is Joe in there?"

"I'm here." Joe answered.

"Oh good," Kate said as she opened the tent flap to peek inside. Kate's sister, Annika, and Austin stood next to her outside. "Because we wanted to hear you play your new song. You never got around to it, you know."

"Okay," Joe said, "but come in here first, Peter has this really cool book."

Kate, Annika, and Austin came inside, but Kate's sister said, "No thanks, I told Thomas that I would relieve him of drinks-server duty."

Peter took the book now and they all clustered around him. He lay on his stomach and started going through the pages, Most of which had a picture.

Suddenly Kate shouted, "Look, a bunnywoman!" She was right. In one of the pictures there was a woman who had long rabbit-like ears that stuck straight up, and the scratches and edges of her skin made her look furry.

"Ooo" Annika breathed.

"And look at this," Ian said, pointing at the other page, "A Lizard like a man". Ian was right too. The lizard was standing up like a man, but had scaly skin, a long snout, and clawed fingers, of which there were only three and a thumb.

They turned the page and saw another type of ''man"; dog-like, Peter supposed. This one was short with a thick tail and a slightly stooped look. He also had long, thick ears that hung down like a beagle's. He looked very calm and collected, whereas the lizard looked a little fierce and arrogant.

There was one other kind of ''man'', and there was only one way to describe him: Cute. He was the smallest, barely higher than a person's knee, while the rabbit-lady and the lizard-man were human height, and the dog-being went up to a person's stomach. With black eyes and short, fuzzy fur all over him, he looked like a squeezable stuffed animal. He had little wings protruding from his back and a long whisker (or antenna) coming out from the top of his head that ended in a ball. Yes, it was definitely cute.

They saw many of these five different "human beings" in the book, all holding weapons. Some had swords and blades, and some had staffs and rods. Some even had wooden claws attached to their gloves, and some held instruments.

Then Lacy saw one of the cute little fuzzy men holding a weapon and yelled, "Oh look, a gun!"

Link poked his head in instantaneously and asked, "Guns? Where?"

"Right here," Lacy answered, too excited to laugh at Link's ever-present love of arms, "In this book! Come here and see."

Link started to come in but stopped, looked at Peter, and asked politely, "May we?"

"Of course." Peter answered, wondering who else was there.

Link entered with Mike and Jason. "All right!" Jason shouted exaggeratedly, fists in the air dramatically. "Reading a book. Now we can really party!"

"Good grief, Jason! Be careful." Peter cautioned, annoyed. "You'll knock the whole tent down on us."

They settled down and all had to go in a circle, with some of them looking at the pictures upside-down, because they were so many. Kate, after not being able to squeeze in anywhere else, knelt on Peter's back to get a good look, though he didn't mind much, because she was so light.

The pictures now moved on to monsters, which you could tell were different, because they looked so less intelligent, whereas the five previous races had all had rational expressions on their faces. There were Great flaming balls of fire with eyes, snake women, trickster fairies, giant feral looking creatures, goblins, and dragons, not only fire breathing, but also electric and frost breathing.

Next it moved on to detailed drawings of places (inlets, forests, oases) and weapons (spears, rapiers, knives).

Much, much later Peter shut the book with a contented, sleepy sigh and rubbed his lined eyes. "I think that's all I can take in now. I for one am so tired that I'm about to fall asleep now, Kate on me and all."

Kate giggled and got off. "I liked that book." She said. "I wish our world was like that." Everyone agreed, somewhat drowsily, that that would be fun. They all bade each other goodnight and commented on what a good day it had been. They all left the tent except Peter, who turned off the lantern and got into his sleeping bag. He fell asleep almost immediately.

In the morning, when Peter awoke, he realized at once that his tent was gone. And for that matter, everybody else's tents too. And for _that_ matter, everybody else!

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Edit: I've been thinking about fleshing out this chapter, seeing as it lays the groundwork for what this story is all about. Any parts looking particularly needful of some more description and information? And if any of the conversations seem a bit unnatural, could you show them to me.


	2. Who Says Change Is Bad?

Shout out to xeeyas for being my first reviewer. Thanks so much! Now I get 'reviews' in orange type next to my link. Yay is me!

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Chapter 2: Who Says Change Is Bad?

Peter sat up and looked about him. Everything seemed the same as it had the day before, except for the missing tents and tables... and people. Though maybe the trees looked a bit more plentiful; and the air did taste a little more... wholesome. Peter stopped noticing the world around him and started noticing himself. His T-shirt, jeans, and shoes were gone. Instead, he was wearing a plain white cotton shirt and simple khaki shorts, but over these he had on other garments, garments he knew; a samurai's garb! And he would know, because he liked samurai so much. The top was pure white, at the arms tinted faintly with sky blue, which deepened at the edges. However, it was bound closed at the waist, not by a sash, but by a navy blue cord. Over his shorts he had very loose and flowing pants that came down to his ankles, so loose and flowing that, when he wasn't moving, they looked like some kind of skirt. They were a vivid cerulean.

But that was not all; he felt different too. There was a new type of energy flowing through his body, parallel but different from the energy that he had always felt. It was like now having two standards for what he could and couldn't do. Peter shivered at the thought and started looking around again. He was sitting with his legs out, propped up by his hands. Now looking at his right hand he saw a strip of cloth and a pair of shoes next to it. At least, he thought they were shoes. They looked too tall to be shoes, but too short to be boots. Putting them on, he decided that they were boots, because they went a little over his ankles and then folded down. Taking the cloth, he wrapped it around his head and tied the knot in the back. His hair was too short for him to tie it up, but he liked it anyway because it reminded him of samurai. Peter then looked over at his left hand and...and saw...he saw a Katana! He stared a second and then picked it up. Unsheathing it, he inspected the blade. He loved how the brand-new, undulled, unscratched metal flashed and reflected the light. He gazed wonderingly at it, turning it this way and that, hoping that this really was his sword. He had always wanted one. After a minute or two, he sheathed it and put it back down, telling himself, "I mean, maybe it's someone else's sword." Reflecting on this thought, Peter saw how unlikely it was. Who would just walk by him, stop, drop the katana, and then go on?

He slid the sword between his belt and clothes as he got up. But as he stood, Peter realized how vast the world was. He had assumed that this was the spot where he had gone to sleep, but though it was similar, it was different too. Some sixth sense warned him that this was not the same world and not to act like it was. He was totally nonplussed. He didn't know what to think or do, so he just stood there.

He was roused from his stupor when he heard someone yell, "Ahhhrg. Just go away, won't you!?" Peter turned about-face and ran into the trees where the voice had come and now other sounds were coming from. When he burst out of the other side of the woods a minute later, he saw who had yelled.

Anne. Her hair was let out and she was wearing a dark red short-sleeved shirt with a rectangular collar and light capris with a white sash tied around her waist. No shoes were on her feet. She was threatening a monster with a sword, both of which Peter remembered seeing in the book. The monster looked a bit like a green tree trunk, with dozens of tentacles at the bottom and dozens of yellow eyes at the top, having a mouth in between. Anne's sword was a type of katana with a straight back, unlike his, which had a slightly curved one.

Anne was annoyed. She had awakened in a tree and, very surprised, climbed down. That's when she had met the monster. Now, a few minutes later, they were down a hill and still neither had attacked. Anne had not dared to because the monster's teeth seemed so sharp and plentiful and because she was still so disoriented. She now turned around to see someone drawing a sword and running downhill, whom she recognized as Peter. As he ran past them, he gave a good, deep swipe at the ugly green creature. It slid backwards at the force of the blow and gave a shriek. Anne saw her chance and threw her weapon as hard as she could. The monster uttered a gasping scream as the sword pierced it to the hilt and slumped back. Silence. Anne pulled her sword out of the deceased monster, looked at Peter, and then smiled. He smiled back. Winning had put them in a slightly giddy mood. But when they looked at their swords they were astonished to see that no blood was on them. They looked at the monster and saw that he too had no marks on him, even though he was certainly dead.

A deep, commanding voice brought their attention back to the hill, where a tall man in armor suddenly boomed out, "K.O. verified. Judge Point awarded." He raised his hand and several small twinkling lights issued from it, which merged over Anne's unconsciously outstretched hand. They bonded together to make a shiny, metallic pebble that fell into Anne's palm. The armored man jumped onto the back of what looked like a mixture between an ostrich and a canary and rode away.

Anne absently moved her sash to put the pebble in a small, hidden waist wallet. "What was that about?" She asked.


	3. Off to a Rocky Start

Sorry about this one being ridiculously short, I'll try to make it up by posting the next one sooner I planned.

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Chapter 3: Off to a Rocky Start

Ian reluctantly opened his eyes and acknowledged that he could not sleep. He now doubted that this would even bring him back to his tent in the clearing, as he had hoped. He sighed and got up, wishing with all his heart that he was back in a sleeping bag instead of on a bag of rice. He had come out of slumber to find himself in this dim, stone storage room, where the only light was from the door-less doorway and pane-less window. Hidden in the corner, he still had not dared to come out, and no one had yet come in. Ian sighed again and decided to inch toward the window.

His attire was very distinctive. His shirt, if you could call it a shirt, was loose and light, making for excellent movement. It was mostly red with some white. His white pants too were baggy and light, and were kept closed at the bottom by crimson bands at the ankles. A white cloth edged by red was on his head and was kept in place by a burgundy headband. Fingerless gloves, burgundy also, were drawn tightly across his palms and wrists. His sandals were caligula, secured at both the back and front.

When he reached the window, he saw that the landscape as well was pretty distinct. Descending ground, made up entirely of rock and dotted with many houses, stretched down until, far away, it met the ground. It reminded him of a quarry, because it didn't descend in a straight line, but at 45 degree angles, as if squares of rock had been cut away from the side of the mountain, which probably was what had happened. The area seamed to be a mountain range of sorts.

As Ian was seeing all this, someone passed by. Ian made a sound of surprise. It was one of the fierce-looking lizard men from the book! It stopped and turned at the sound, catching sight of Ian before he could move. Speeding into the storeroom, it grabbed Ian by the neck of his clothes and dragged him out.

Once outside, it looked Ian squarely in the eye and asked, "Now then, sssonny, what were you doing in there?"

"Sleeping," Ian answered truthfully. His captor was taller even than himself, and Ian wasn't too keen on getting on his bad side.

"Oh, a runaway, are you?" It asked.

Not knowing how else to reply, Ian told it, "It's not my fault, I was forced!"

The lizard-man gave a bark of laughter. "Isss that ssso, sssonny? They were really that bad to you?"

"Look, never mind the running away part, just, can you..." Ian stopped and thought for a second. His reality had changed overnight and without warning. Presuming everything went back to the way it was? That was what he was hoping for, but would anything he did here really matter then? Presuming that it stayed this way? That was definitely a possibility and so he should act with that in mind. "I-" he continued, "I just want to start over; can you help me with that?"

The lizard put him down and smiled. "Well now, I don't sssee why not. You look young and prime for fighting, so I'll take you to Cyril; I wasss already heading there myssself. I'm ssstarting out at noon and when we get there, we can find some clan for you to join."


	4. Confused? Who, Me?

Chapter 4: Confused? Who, Me?

After a minute Peter said to Anne, "So... have you seen anyone else?"

Anne shook her head and said, "No, I awoke in a tree. Not the most attractive sleeping spot for most people," she added wryly.

"Ha. I haven't seen anyone else either. Nice move with the monster, by the way."

"Thanks. You were pretty quick with a sword out there too."

Peter made a look of chagrin as he said, "I always wondered how I'd react to a high pressure situation. I was hyperventilating those first few seconds. Is that how you react to pressure?"

"No, I usually just freeze up. I'm cool like that." Anne said sarcastically.

Peter tried to hide a grin. Sitting down at the bottom of the hill, he mused, "Man, that guy in the armor was kind of a jerk, not helping us out and all.

Anne nodded and pulled the out pebble he had given her. "I wonder what this stone is that he gave me. Maybe I should get rid of it."

"Nah, it's cool." He said flippantly.

"But what if it's dangerous?" She asked as she gave him an incredulous look.

Peter face turned more serious. "He didn't seem dangerous, just eccentric. Like he said, it's a 'judge point', that's all."

"I wonder who he was. He didn't seem surprised at all by the changes in the world. Maybe we should try to track him down."

"Maybe. Come to think of it, maybe he's...well, a judge. After all, he just watched us the whole battle and then, when we won, gave us a 'judge point'."

"All the more reason we should find him then if he's a figure of authority. I for one want to know why and how all this happened. Or maybe we should go look for the others."

Peter thought about the two options and couldn't decide which was more important, so he shrugged his shoulders and said, "We should probably start walking, that way we're bound to run into somebody. If it's someone we know, good. If it's someone we don't know, maybe they'll explain this new world to us. I am pretty sure this is a new world. With new rules ..." Peter wondered how many extra rules there actually were, and how much ignorance of them would cost.

"I think we should find the others before we do anything else." Anne said as she produced a pair of sandals from seemingly nowhere and put them on, and then put her hair in a ponytail with a black strip of cloth.

Peter gave her an annoyed look. She acted as if his suggestion delayed that. "How else can we do that?" He asked.

"Well, where were you when you awoke? It couldn't have been too far from my (she gave a sarcastic smile as she said my) tree. We should look in that area."

Peter hesitated, then reluctantly agreed. "Fine, but I can't mark tracks or anything."

"I'm sure I can figure something out. I'm not a ninja-" she looked at her sword and said, "Make that professional ninja, for nothing."

"Okay then, let's turn around."

Arriving at the clearing, they went searching around in the grass. There were no marks of crushed grass (which was the one of the few things Peter could think of to look for) except the ones Peter had made earlier that morning.

He straightened up and sighed. "As I thought, no holes from tent stakes, no remnants of food, nothing. They were never here. Well," he added. "Since you were moved from this spot in the old world, maybe they were too, but farther away..."

"Maybe we should split up and look for them. What if one of them met something even worse than I did?"

"No can do; I'm not sure I can handle a monster alone." Peter looked at the sky, hoping to find comfort in it. He found, looking at the beautifully shaped clouds that contrasted pleasantly against his favorite hue of blue, a little comfort, but not enough really to make any difference. He lowered his head and felt lost again. So many things needed to be done and yet none of them seemed like the first thing to do. Just then, he heard noises coming from down the hill. Brightening up, he ran into the wall of trees, Anne close behind him.

When he crashed out at the other side, Anne was ahead of him. She hurried down, almost falling and tumbling once, and intercepted two men as they passed the hill. One was in his 50's and had a short grizzled beard. He had a bow slung across his shoulder. The other was younger, in his early 20's and whose attire was mostly colored blue. His hat, blue too, had a plume at the front. Both of their costumes had been in the book. Anne watched them, panting, not knowing what to say. Peter stumbled down next to her, breathing heavily. He too had no idea what to ask them.

Anne threw caution to the winds and blurted out, "Do you know why the world has changed?" Peter made no motion, or at least tried to make no motion, but groaned inwardly. He hoped that they did know why the world had changed and wouldn't think them crazy.

The older man stared hard at Anne and then chuckled. "Now, now, I wouldn't call a strengthening of the laws a changing of the whole world, Missy." He answered.

"Do know where the nearest town or city is?" Peter quickly interposed, so that Anne couldn't further embarrass them.

The man in blue looked surprised. "Ha, don't you know?" he asked.

"Nope." Peter replied as he shook his head with sardonic smile on his face. "We're just a couple of idiots who are lost."

The bowman inquired further. "Well, where are you from?"

Peter took a breath --and a risk --and said. "We're from the country of America."

The older man scratched his beard and spoke thoughtfully. "America, eh? Never heard of that country. But then again, I don't study Geology."

Anne made a face. "Anyways," She continued, "Could you tell us where the nearest city is?"

"Of course." The man with the plume answered. "But first, let's introduce ourselves. My name is Brent, and my companion's is Dans."

"Oh yeah, I'm Peter and my friend is Anne." Peter said as he gave a nod of greeting.

Dans nodded back. "Well," he said, "the nearest city is Cyril, and we can take you there ourselves, 'cause we're going there too. So if you want to tag along, hop to it!" and with that, he started away, walking briskly.

Peter and Anne kept behind Dans, and Brent walked and conversed with them.

"Cyril," he explained, "is two day's march from here, to the west and a bit to the south. The first day will be okay, but the second will be harder. You see, Cyril is surrounded by a circle of desert, a day's journey in all directions. Heheh, people divide it into four parts with an X. The part we'll be going through-- the west part-- is called Delia Dunes. The south part, Jeraw Sands, has a mountain range in it. The city of Sprohm is cut into those mountains. Eluut Sands is the east part. It's a mixture of baked ground and sand. At its edges the city of Cadoan is situated. Finally, there's Gotor Sands. Ha, it's pretty plain, just flat expanses of sand, though it does have two or three oases. None of the others do. By the by," Brent added, and humorous smile on his face, "How did you get lost?"

"I'm not even sure myself." Peter answered fervently.

The first day past uneventfully, and at evening Dans and Brent were kind enough to share some of their food with Anne and Peter. The second day was different. They had camped just before entering the dunes the night before, and as Peter got up the next morning he saw the grass yield to sand right before his feet. They started off and at first Peter found it fun going up and down the sand dunes. That fun soon faded; crossing a desert is hot and tiring work, as anybody who has done it knows. At 4 o' clock the ground started to level out a bit. The stretches of flatness were bigger and the sand dunes were half their former height. It was then that they saw them; what looked faintly like ants, but bigger. Much bigger. They were taller than Peter's knees, but not as tall as his waist. Being red and having giant pincers, about three of them descended on the traveling companions.

"Antlions" Dans breathed. He slipped off his green bow, took out an arrow, and turned to Anne and Peter. "Alright, you two," he said with a wry smile, "This is where you repay us for the food." They both nodded and drew their swords.

Neither party moved. Peter wondered for a second what they all were waiting for when, with an exclamation of unbelief, he saw the armored man run up on his bird.

Peter was sure this time that he was a judge, for, sitting on his bird at the top of a nearby dune, he suddenly stated, "Today's laws are, No katana, No rapiers. Bonus for sabers, Bonus for maces." Then, raising his hand, he blew a whistle...and the battle started!

Dans went up one of the dunes to get better range. Peter stood still, not know how he was supposed to attack without his katana, and wondering if he should break the law to help his friends. Anne followed Brent as he strode forward, unsheathing a purple saber. The two of them went for the nearest antlion. Brent hit it, but as Anne came close, it, very quickly, slid around in a full circle, sending up a wave of sand. Brent jumped back, but Anne caught it full in the face. She fell down backwards and, for the third time since arriving at this new world, was astonished. There was no sand in her eyes, of that she was sure, and yet she was blind! She could see nothing but blackness.

Peter turned his head at the sight of the wave and saw Anne fall down into a sitting position, staring blankly ahead. He still hadn't moved yet, while Dans had already downed one antlion. Peter saw Brent put a hand inside his blue coat and bring out a small dropper full of liquid. He moved Anne's head back and squeezed the dropper over her eyes. Peter's attention was turned back to himself. The third antlion was headed towards him. Not being able to use his sword, he panicked and did nothing. Suddenly one of Dans's arrows went right through the monster, killing it. He peered closer and saw that, once again, there was no mark on the monster, no wound or arrow hole.

Anne blinked. She felt the liquid and was now regaining her eyesight, only to see that the final antlion was approaching her. Brent smiled. Mimicking the monster's previous attack, he caused a spray of sand to fly into its eyes. It faltered and moved its head around uncertainly. Anne, seeing an opening, forgot about what the judge had said at the beginning of the battle. She jumped up and brought her sword down upon the antlion, which brought down upon her the judge's wrath.

He slapped down hard a yellow card onto her head, booming, "Law broken, yellow card given to offender!"

Anne turned around in fury. "What do you think you're doing!?" She yelled, beside herself with anger. The monster, when it heard her voice, tensed and started scuttling quickly toward her. Anne's attention was on the judge and Brent's on her.

It was now that Peter moved. Rushing past the judge, Brent, and Anne, he stood between her and the monster. He gave it a sideways slash and heard it scream a piercing death cry. The antlion slumped, with no marks on it either.

Cringing, waiting for the yellow card to hit him, Peter felt nothing. He opened his eyes to see the familiar, small, twinkling lights merge and held out his hand to catch the pebble. The battle over, the judge rode away and the company continued their journey, Peter and Anne keeping their confusion to themselves.


	5. A Much Needed Explanation

At first, I wanted to call this chapter, "Whatever Happened to Gumption?" or something of the sort. Why? Because I like the word "gumption" (It's true!). However, I was was afraid that people wouldn't understand, so now it is what it is.

Anyway, I hope you all enjoy this chapter!

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Chapter 5: A Much Needed Explanation

The city of Cyril had now a clear outline as the light was fading. Another hour and the travelers would reach the city. Absentmindedly rolling the metallic pebble between his thumb and forefinger, Peter kept pace with the others. "Dans," he began, "What exactly is a judge point?"

"Well now, a judge point is sort of a... a power booster. You'll be able to do some pretty special stunts with it. The more of them you use at a time the better. It can do all kinds of things, like improve your luck, increase your stats, give you suspended air motion; it's pretty nifty."

"Increased speed..." Anne mused as she reached inside her hidden wallet for her pebble. Her face turned worried and she tried to dig deeper inside her wallet. "My point is gone!" she exclaimed. "I had gotten it a bit before we met you guys."

"Of course it's gone." Brent told her, wisely preventing his habitual laugh. "The judge gave you a yellow card, and whenever someone receives a yellow or red card, they lose all their points."

"I didn't know that!" Anne stormed.

"You shouldn't have broken the law in the first place." Brent chided placidly.

Anne glared daggers at Brent. "I was in the heat of battle; how can you expect me to remember what the laws are for the day, if you can call those stupid, useless rules 'laws'."

Brent stared at her, apparently so used to the laws as to find Anne's statement insane. "Laws are laws. Besides, everyone else seems to get along with them."

Anne, who knew herself to be perfectly capable of remembering the laws after this incident, but was in a bad mood because she felt slighted and thought that her newness should exempt her (She wanted her judge point back.), simply looked away.

"Why didn't I get penalized?" Peter put in, drawing his sword, "_I_ used a katana."

Dans surveyed Peter's blade. "Well now, I've never seen a blade like that before. I don't know about America, but here in Verdendom your weapon has never been seen, so isn't a katana."

"So that's why I got no penalty for attacking." Peter said.

"Nope," Dans commented. "Instead, you got a judge point."

Peter held up the pebble and gazed admiringly at it. Shiny things were always nice to look at. He looked past it and saw that Anne was giving him a sullen and envious look. Feeling mischievous, he broadened his grin unnaturally and he capered ahead. Anne looked away, pretending to be indifferent.

Turning to Brent, she said, "There are some things that I don't understand. Before we met you two, Peter and I were fighting a monster, but though we killed it, there were no marks! The same thing happened with the antlions. Also, when I was blind, I was sure that no sand had gotten into my eyes. And to top it off, there are all these weird laws!"

"Hahaha" Brent laughed, as usual. Anne's eyes narrowed.

"Keep the laughter out." She warned him.

"All right, all right," he replied good-naturedly. "It's all really one answer. Quite some time ago, fights had no regulations. People just fought all the time and however they liked. As you might guess, the economy suffered terribly. The population was very low because so many people were killed in these duels, both fighters and bystanders. It was nearly impossible to transport goods unharmed, and there was no such thing as an undamaged building. At last, the now famous King Vlairno ascended to the throne. He used his authority to make a set of rules and laws for fights, legalizing them and re-dubbing them "Engagements". Next, he spread his personal guard throughout the country to enforce the laws. Thus they gained the name 'Judge'. Now people could only begin an engagement when a judge was present."

"Yeah," Anne interrupted, "but what about damage without marks, and going blind without being injured?"

"That's the next part. To keep the population up, the king established 'The Transfiguratory System'-"

"Oh don't call it that, Brent." Dans complained. "Nowadays we just call it the Measure-for-measure System." He added, looking at Anne.

"Yes, but 'thenadays' they didn't. I'll get to that part later. Where was I...oh yes. You see Anne, what the system does is take all damage to the body out of attacks. The pain is still there, but it downs stamina instead. This way no one dies. You lose the engagement when all your stamina is depleted and you therefore pass out.

"In the beginning, plain, straight attacking was all that most people thought to do, but after battling became legal, official tournaments started. Some tournaments just centered on the winning, but others had special focus on the flair of attacks. So fighters entering them started expanding with different ways to attack. At first the Judges opposed this. (Historians guess that it was the impulse to resist change.) However, the judges soon saw that the choice of how to attack made people think more about fighting, which, in turn, made the engagements become even more orderly, which was just what they had been working for in the first place. Fighters invented new ways to attack, including causing status ailments. That's when it started being called 'the Measure-for-measure system'. Now, the authorities couldn't have body parts _really_ debilitated, so they modified the Transfiguratory System so that people could now get blinded, poisoned, paralyzed, and so on, without the effect being permanent. Besides status ailments, another thing introduced was Temporary Stat Reduction, or TSR. Now people could lower others' stats temporarily, like defense or speed or such.

"Whoa." Anne started talking quickly. "But, how? How could damage be replaced with stamina loss? How could the pain remain? How can they make speed go down for a short time, like only the battle maybe? And how can they make me go blind without ruining my eyes? It's just not natural!"

Brent shrugged his shoulders and said unconcernedly. "Magic. Magic of the country and palace, I think."

Peter, who had been several steps ahead of everyone else due to his capering, stopped. As the others drew level with him he gave Anne an indescribable look and began walking again. The _look_ may have been indescribable, but what it meant was something like, "Did he just say 'magic'? How should we react?" He didn't know whether she understood him. When _she_ threw _him_ an indescribable look, he was sure that _he_ did not understand. Concentrating, he able to make a describable look that meant, "Let's talk about this later."

Anne finally ventured to ask, "But why have Laws, and bonus laws?"

Brent continued his explanation. "They used Laws, like 'no katana', 'no techniques', or 'no healing', to make sure that people stopped and thought before attacking. As to why they started bonus Laws, some people just kept on doing the non-special 'Fight', and since there were so many Laws, the one against 'Fight' appeared only once in a while. So the Judges came up with 'Recommendation Laws' and 'Judge Points'. Recommendation Laws, or 'Bonus' laws as you call them, say that you get something extra (JP, to be specific) for using a certain weapon or battling a certain way. This way, everyone has a reason for not doing the same thing again and again. JP is also given when you K.O. someone, as you have seen. Oh yes, besides giving JP, Judges can perform two other actions in battle; they can give yellow cards and red cards. Yellow cards will give an after-battle penalty, such as a money or equipment fine. ("Why didn't Anne have to pay a fine after the battle?" Peter whispered to Dans. "Who knows?" Dans answered unconcernedly. Peter stared at him closely. "... I see." he finally said in a shrewd voice.) Red cards send people to jail. If a person gets two yellow cards in one engagement, he'll automatically receive a red card. Downing a person by breaking the law gets you a red card always."

"I see no difference between 'Fight' and other attacks and abilities." Peter commented.

"That's-"

"Wait," Anne interrupted, "Before we talk about that, I want to know if they have real laws, ones against stealing and being too loud in public and stuff."

"Actually, we don't. The authorities expect people to settle those disputes with Engagements. Also, stealing is actually legal in battles. Back to the first question." he said, turning to Peter. "That's how they divided it. 'Fight', of course, had been there since the beginning of engagements, so that was left alone. The newer moves were put into four categories. First, there are Action abilities-"

Dans broke in. "A-abilities for short."

Brent paused and looked at him, laughed, and then continued, "Yes, well, most abilities fall into this slot. In fact, there are so many different A-abilities that engagements have become quite a lot more strategic. For instance, there is Air Render, which lets you attack from a distance_ and_ without using your weapon( "oh, so you won't get penalized for using that type of weapon." "Exactly, Peter!"); and there's Freezeblink, which tricks all opponents into thinking that a cold wind is blowing on them.

"Next there are reaction abilities-"

"R-abilities for short." Dans put in.

Brent rolled his eyes and went on. "There are only a few R-abilities but there's at least one for each class. The difference between A- and R-abilities is that reactions are triggered by and build upon the opponent's attack. After all, you can't catch arrows and send them back at their shooter, as with Return Fire, if there's no arrow to start with. Also," Brent continued, "reactions are not affected by the law, because they are controlled by the reflexes; The judges decided that would be too callous to give penalties for reflexes. So, If you, with a broadsword, block and then counter, as with Strikeback, even if that day's law is against Broadswords, you won't get punished!

The other two ability categories are," he stopped and looked at Dans. "S-abilities and C-abilities which-"

"Stand for support abilities and combo abilities." Dans broke in again.

Brent threw his arms up in mock despair and said, "Why don't you finish, since you seem so eager?"

"That I am," Dans rejoined placidly. "Support abilities aren't attacks; they're, well, supports. Take, for example, Monkey Grip. If you learn that ability you can hold 2-handed swords with one hand. Or try Weapon Defense. By concentrating, you boost your physical defense at all times ("'Physical' defense? As opposed to what? ... ooooh").

"C-abilities are the last type, and there is one and only one for each job class. Combo abilities focus your JP into an attack. They harness the JP and unlock their power, allowing you to do the things we told you about before. Different combos have different strengths; For instance, Combat Combo is fail proof, while Juggle Combo is easily chained with other combos, and Gadget Combo is long-ranged."

"Well how do you learn all these abilities?" asked Anne.

"Later, later. I'm getting tired now and seeing as we've arrived, I want to find an inn." They _had_ arrived. The houses of Cyril were mostly square and made of baked clay, and only the main streets were paved. Everything they could see was a shade of tan, except for the palm tree tops, which were, of course, green. There were two to three palm trees clustered around every house, and as Peter entered the town "square" (it was really a circle) he saw something that made his sleepy eyes open wide. In the middle of the forum/marketplace/townsquare was a huge oasis-turned-fountain, forty-five feet in diameter. As they passed it walking to the inn, Peter watched the water ripple alluringly.

When they entered the inn, Peter found that it was the free/traveler's sort; that is to say, it was one big room with a ton of people on the floor. An alert attendant handed them each a pillow, blanket and sheet, asked them to find a corner to sleep in, and bade them good night. They did find a corner, and laid their stuff down. After Peter had taken off his boots, head cloth, sword, and loose pants, and settled down, he looked over at Anne, who had begun to whisper to him.

"Peter," she said, barely audibly, "is it just me or were those laws and rules and categories a bit..."

"Contrived?" He suggested. "Yeah. Maybe things will seem realer in the morning. Anyway, g'night.

* * *

When planning out how engagement rules and techniques work out, I am constantly debating in my head how much is _too_ _much _like the game mechanics, and what would make it more realistic without making it too freestyle. So tell me how it looks now; Good? Bad? I'd like to know.

And yes, it's true! I never thought that the sprites for the katana (Note: I'm a believer in not using S to denote the plurality of words imported from Japan. ... I should put this in my signature.) in FFTA were curved enough. This is my way of expressing that gripe. And of helping distinguish Samurai from Ninjas. ('Ninja', by the way, is so common a word in America that I don't mind it having an S added; it rather sounds weird without it.)


	6. A Link from the Past

Sorry about taking so long with this one. Part of the reason for that is because I was giving you people a chance to review the last chapter. So I guess it's really your fault, haha. But, since you didn't review, I guess you don't care about the wait.

I am really pleased with this one (maybe I shouldn't be?). I stayed up alllll night doing it. It's fun watching the sky grow lighter every few minutes.

* * *

Chapter 6: A Link from the Past

Peter stood by the fountain while he and Anne said goodbye to Dans and Brent.

"That building with the red dome," said Dans, pointing, "is the Pub. You can find some clan to join there, but first you'll need to stop at the Guild. That's the whitewashed one with the gold edges on the roof. Since you're foreign, you'll have to take a test and register your job class there to make sure you're fit for it. They're both on Hestine Boulevard." he pointed to the boulevard's opening some yards away. "Well, it was nice traveling with you two. Take care of yourselves." He shook their hands and started walking away, signaling for Brent to follow.

Brent looked at us. "Hmmh, it was nice meeting you two," he said, with a sad smile on his face. "You seem new to many things here, so do be careful." And with that, he nodded his head and followed his companion.

Peter and Anne found themselves once again alone, and with that came a feeling of lack of purpose. They sat down at the edge of the fountain.

After a few minutes Anne looked at Peter, to find him looking at her. "So," she asked sarcastically, "What are our choices?"

"Excuse me?"

"What are we going to do? What can we do?"

Peter rested his chin on his palm and thought for few seconds. "Well... One, we could try to change the world back; Two, we could make preparations to live in this world... Or three, we could do both."

"I vote for three."

"So do I, so I guess we should head for that Guild to make our job classes official." But as they got up, Peter noticed something.

"Anne," He whispered as he gripped her wrist, "It's the four other races from the book!" They now saw that these races were all about them; shopping, chatting, moving here and there. There were mostly humans in the forum but many of these four other races were there as well.

Peter thought for a second, and then said, "Now I _know_ this has something to do with the book. This town is familiar, these people are familiar, and your sword is familiar. They were all in the book..."

"Whatever," Anne stated dismissively, "Let's just continue now."

They started walking down one of the many roads that trailed from the fountain; the one named Hestine Boulevard, which lead towards the Guild and Pub, which were basically across from each other. As they neared the Pub, out of it came a Blue and a White (For that is what had Peter dubbed them; The Rabbits 'Brown', The Lizards 'Orange', the Dogs 'Blue', and the Cute Fuzzy Creatures 'White'.) An unusually big Orange came out after the Blue and White and stopped them.

"We're not done with bussssinessss yet." He said. "I'm charging extra gil for coming acrossss unforssseen difficultiesss"

"If you would think back," The Blue replied calmly, "You would remember that we had already thought of that in our contract."

"Yeah, kupo." The White put in, "besides, we don't really have any money to spare!"

"Now lisssten here," The Orange growled, "I want more pay and I'm getting it!" He tried to grab the Blue's wallet.

The White stepped in between them. "No, you had your pay, kupo!" He shouted. The Orange, who had 'claws' on, drew his hand back to punch. The judge appeared, the whistle blew, the passersby scattered. The battle began.

The Orange gave a great swipe and caused the White to be hurled several feet to the side. The White gave a chilling squeak of pain that died out as he fainted from the pain. It was at this point that the Orange was hit simultaneously by four different attacks.

The first was Peter's, who was a good sprinter and had run up to the lizard and given him a quick slash.

The second was Anne's, who, seeing a rusty old knife lying next to a building, had picked it up and thrown it.

The third was Ian's, who had been walking down the street from the opposite direction. When he had seen several feet away the unwarranted attack connect, he had leaned back, with his own 'claws' on, and issued a great punch, causing a condensed wave of air to bash the Orange right in the back of his head.

The fourth was a gunshot.

The Orange fell unconscious from the loss of all stamina. The judge looked this way and that, trying to decide who had done the finishing blow. He must have been a generous judge, for he shrugged his shoulders, raised his hand, and snapped his armored fingers. (This made more of a clank than snap, but nonetheless sent out a shower of sparks four times as many than usual.)

Peter did not wait for his point but ran after the fourth set of sparkles, his own trailing after him. He knew whom they were heading to. Giving a wordless wave of greeting and a smile to Ian as he passed him, he followed the lights as they entered an alleyway. Trying hard to keep up, he saw the lights take a sharp turn left a few feet ahead. Peter turned and slid to a halt, and saw someone snatch a pebble before it could start falling. His own pebble, unheeded, fell by his foot.

After panting for a moment or two, Peter said, "... Lincoln."

Link looked at him. He was wearing a green bulletproof vest with a turned up collar over a white long-sleeved shirt. He had dark khakis on and boots that were made for climbing. He put his pistol back in its holster, which was attached to a double belt, joined at the pistol side, but straight and slanted at the other, with little pockets for bullets on the slanted loop. A shockguard was on his left shoulder and a fingerless glove on his left hand.

Peter stepped forward. "You're okay." he said, relieved.

"Yeah, I guess so." Link answered.

Ian and Anne came up behind Peter. "Link!" They both exclaimed.

"I'm glad _you_ haven't had to fight monsters nonstop since you got here." was all Anne could say.

"What, you've fought monsters? I haven't gotten to meet any yet." was Link's disappointed reply.

"Did you wake up here, in the city?" Peter asked.

"Mhmm, and I've been roamin' about the city since." Link said. Peter turned to Ian and inquired, "Where did you wake up, Ian?"

"I woke up in Sprohm. It's a city dow-"

"Yeah-yeah Ian, we know where you're taking about." Anne interrupted.

Peter looked at Ian and Link. "So," he asked. "Have either of you gone to the guild yet?" They shook their heads.

"When I woke up," Link said. "It was pretty clear that the place was different, so I just kinda moved around, learning a bit."

"Yeah well, now that we're together, we can go to the Guild, and after that find some clan to join." Anne said.

"How about we start our own clan?" suggested Ian.

"Hey, that's a good idea, Ian," Peter said thoughtfully. "Okay then, how about we put our hands together and start off our clan with a promise."

"I have a better Idea, let's join feet!" said Link, who had been a sailor and knew better ways of doing things, such as making promises. He grabbed a barrel a few yards away and put it in the middle of the alleyway. "We each make a promise as we put our foot up."

So they stood there, the four of them with the barrel in the center. One by one they raised their feet and made a promise.

"I promise," Anne vowed, as she raised her foot, "to try my hardest."

"I promise," Ian vowed, as he raised his foot, "to make the most of this time here."

"I promise," Peter vowed, as he raise his foot (feeling that he could easily unbalance), "to find all of our friends who are here, and I have a sneaking suspicion who they are."

"And I promise," Lincoln vowed, as he put his foot up, "to look after us all!" He shoved the barrel with his foot and caused them all to unbalance and fall on their backs.

"Link," Anne said on her back, annoyed.

"It's just how you seal the promise," he explained, not getting up. "By the way, what'll the name of our clan be?"

"If we're going to find our friends," Anne said, "then 'clan finder'."

"'clan tracker'," Ian corrected.

"clan useful?" Link suggested.

They all turned to Peter for input.

Peter had his eyes closed pensively; then he said decidedly, "...Clan Elite."


	7. An Introduction to Classification

Although we writers don't write simply for praise, responses from readers constitute about half our enjoyment. Even if people only give some small comment about some character's outburst or description, we still appreciate it. So don't think you have to give some complete review if you post-- Although those are essential to our improvement. What I'm trying to say is, tell me what you think, or else I have no idea if anyone's reading.

* * *

Chapter 7: An Introduction to Classification

"Orange?" Ian said disbelievingly.

"Well, for lack of a real name... yeah." Peter answered, embarrassed.

"Okay, let me set you straight. The rabbits are Viera, the lizards are Bangaa, the dogs are Nu Mou, and the cute, white things are Moogles, got it?"

"Umm, got it."

They had entered the Guild's main lobby and, by the time they had finished this short conversation, had reached the front desk. Standing behind it was a Viera as attendant.

"Good morning," She said serenely. "How may I help you today?"

"We would like to take Job Class Tests, please," Peter answered.

"JCTs? Okay, but first we will need to sign up you up for membership. Because this is a government institute, membership is free. If you will give me your names, I will make a card for each of you."

After they told her their names and she had given them their membership cards, she said, "Please stand in a line and state what class you are trying out for."

Anne was first. "Ninja," she said. The Viera handed her a paper and asked that she fill it out. Anne went over to a nearby sofa and sat down.

Link came next. "Gunner," he said. The Viera looked surprised.

"I'm sorry," She said blushing (though it was hard to tell, because of her fur), "but we have that registered as a Moogle job alone. They are the only ones dexterous enough to handle guns."

"I've been a gunman all my life, and I'm not about to stop now." He stated simply.

"Well... if you can past the test, I don't see why we shouldn't make an exception." She said hesitatingly. Handing him a paper, she added, "Feel free to cross out the first question."

Lincoln went over and sat down near to where Anne had settled herself. The first question on his paper read: _Write two A-abilities you have learned as an Animist._ Link crossed it out as he had been advised. While he answered the other questions, he listened to Ian's and Peter's problems. Ian's resembled his. The White Monk job class, the one Ian wanted, was available only to Bangaa because of the strength required, but he received the same dispensation as Link. Peter's problem was more difficult.

Ian, Anne, and Link listened closely.

"I'm sorry," The attendant said, when Peter had stated 'Samurai'.

"We have no job class of that type in our files. Is it called by any other name?"

"No,' Peter replied. "Just samurai."

"Here, look at this list. Are you sure it might not be one of these?"

Peter quickly scanned the list. "No," he said. "None of them is like it."

"Well." she said, blushing again. "I am very sorry, but you'll have to find another job."

"Couldn't you just make a new file?" Peter asked.

"Well... We don't have any restrictions against it... I suppose I could call the head of our outlet... yes, he will decide what is to be done." she leaned down behind her desk and made a small movement. "Wake up, Puck," Peter heard her say. "Please go and bring the boss immediately."

"Hmm? Oh, yes Miss Mua," He heard a small voice reply. The owner of the voice was a Moogle, and he, hovering by his wings, sped from behind the desk into one of the adjoining halls and away out of sight.

"Please sit down and wait," the attendant said, turning back to Peter. "Our boss, Mr. Steelson, will arrive shortly."

Peter sighed and walked over to his friends. As he sat down they all got up, having filled out their papers.

"Good luck!" each of them said while they passed by. Peter sighed, sat down, and started thinking. The others handed in their forms. Mua looked at Ian's and Link's papers and directed them to their classrooms where they would each take a short, 3-hour course on their job.

When she looked at Anne's form, she asked, "Why didn't you fill out the blanks for 'A-abilities learned as a thief'?"

"It's against the law to steal where I come from, so I don't have any experience in it." ("Oh really?" Peter asked in a fake, mildly-surprised tone from the corner of the room.)

"I see," said the Viera, "very well. No one has passed without some experience as a thief, but you can try." Anne, after getting her directions, left, leaving Peter alone.

He looked around to pass the time and saw that the lobby was quite pretty. The polished wood floor went well with the beige walls. A few potted plants were placed here and there added a refreshing touch of green.After another minute or two of waiting, Peter suddenly remembered the question Anne had asked and Dans had never got around to answering. He got up and went over to the attendant, whom he asked, "So is this where battlers learn abilities?"

"You're not from around here, are you?" Mua asked.

"Nope, I come from another country."

"Well, that explains you and your companions' lack of knowledge about jobs. I suppose _I_ had better tell you what abilities are, since you won't be attending a class. You see, we teach members _how_ to use an ability, but to _be able_ to use one, you need to have a specific weapon. The first reason is that the weapon's characteristics were made to do just that attack. The second reason is that the essence of that ability is in that weapon, and if you know the basic movements and theory, which are what we teach you, you can perform that ability."

"Essence of Ability?"

"I'm not an expert about abilities, so I can't get any more detailed than that. Let's continue. Weapons are not the only items that can teach abilities. In fact, most R-abilities and S-abilities are contained in clothes. An item can hold up to three abilities. After a while you will get used to the feel of an ability and will no longer need to have use that specific weapon to use it. That's about all, I think."  
As she finished speaking, footsteps echoed from the hallway. Peter looked to his right and saw an older man approaching. When the man was few feet away, he came to a halt and started looking Peter over as he twirled his grayed mustache.

At last he said, "So you're the young ruffian who thinks he's too good for any of the existing job classes and therefore needs to make a new one." Though the Steelson's words were of an accusatory character, Peter spied no look of annoyance or disapproval on his face, and therefore was able to form his answer with ease

"...Yes and no, sir." Peter replied after a moment. "I am young and I do think I need to make a new class for myself. None of the others suites my style."

Mr. Steelson twirled his mustache thoughtfully for a moment. "Uniqueness does sometimes lead to fame," He mused. "but it usually leads to obscurity. Hmm, I suppose it wouldn't cause everything to tumble down if we let you fight your own way. Very well, Miss Mua, let him sign up." he ordered the attendant. "I'll personally take care of the paperwork for the justice system. Mind you though," he added to Peter. "If you want to be able to do more than 'fight', and actually have some Abilities, you will have to make some yourself, and for that you'll need to have a vivid imagination and a strong spirit. The Abilities cannot copy any of the other classes' of that race, Human in your case, so be mindful of that. ...Hmpf, you probably _will_ just get stuck doing 'fight' all the time, for lack of other attacks. Miss Mua, please make a folder for this."

"Yes sir." she replied, as he went back to his office. She took out a piece of paper and started writing on it. A moment later she lifted her head and asked Peter, "What weapon or weapons will your class use?"

Peter showed her his sword. "This," he answered. "In our country it's called a katana, but here people seem to limit katana to a more specific category."

"We do, though this looks a bit like some of them. Well, I'll call it 'fine katana', though it will only be a tentative title. Now for Armor. Will your class be equipping any of the following: Heavy Armor, Light Armor, and Mystic Armor?"

"...Heavy Armor and Light Armor."

"And what about shields?"

"No shields."

"Have you decided on a title for samurai moves?"

"Bushido seems like a good choice, but let's not make that final."

"Okay then, we're done." She finished and put the paper in a folder, which she filed away in the desk. "Be sure to notify me right away when you successfully create new attacks." She told him seriously. "Some judges will give you an unbelievably hard time for using attacks not registered in an engagement before letting you off, and that's only the first time."

Peter went back to waiting, and about two hours later the others were done with their classes. Ian flopped down on a sofa, "Man, whoever said that Bangaa are strong made a major understatement." He said, exhausted. "But at least I passed."

Link joined him. "My head is in a jumble from all the information they gave me," he moaned. "Somehow I passed too."

"I passed _and_ my class went well." Anne said. "But then again, I didn't try to overreach." She turned away from Ian and Link so she didn't have to see their scowling faces. "How did it go with you?" she asked Peter. He recounted what had happened to him. As he neared the ending, they all got up and started walking to the door.

When his narrative was done, Link said, "Well, we still need to learn what a clan is, and we don't even know where we'll live or how we'll earn money, but at least we got that over with."

* * *

Just an observation, but people who write fiction about FFTA seem to prefer making many Viera sanguine, but in FFXII, all the Viera seem to be rather melancholic. Am I the only person who notices this?


	8. A Change of Situation

Chapter 8: A Change of Situation

"I can't believe we started a clan without even knowing what one is." Lincoln said, shaking his head as he entered the pub.

"We were going to join one anyway, so what was wrong with making one ourselves?" Ian retorted, as they passed through the vestibule, into the main room. Link had no answer for this.

To their left was a man leaning on a counter whose beard was white and short. "Hello there," he greeted. "I haven't seen you around before."

"That's because we haven't been around," Peter answered amiably. "Err…" He didn't want to go through more 'new' treatment, but he wanted a definition of clans, so he asked, "My friends and I are debating about how to best describe 'clan', how would you describe it?"

"Hmm, that's an easy one," He said, as he stroked his beard. "A clan is a group of people who band together to do missions. And the best definition of missions," he added quickly as he saw Peter's mouth open again, "is 'requests that people put up at pubs', like my pub." After giving the definition, he commented conversationally, "Being a clanner has become quite a well-paying job now, hasn't it?"

"Actually, we're just starting our own clan right now so we wouldn't know."

"You are, eh? I'm the bartender and owner of this establishment, Cantato's the name. What did you name your clan?"

"Clan Elite."

"Elite? You'll get laughed at terribly from the start, you know. Those kind of 'powerful' names aren't used anymore; they're considered presumptuous. Clans with that kind of name usually do end up with no real fame; then again, clans with any kind of name usually don't become famous, it's just the big name makes the failure seem worse. But I'm going off track. All I'm trying to say is that Clan Ghetto is the big shot right now, so catchy or cool names are in."

"O-oh, I see." Peter's face turned crestfallen at such early discouragement, but he consoled himself with the remembrance that that wasn't the primary reason for the clan's naming, a reason he hadn't mentioned to the others.

He took a casual glance around the big room. Calling it dimly lit would have been an exaggeration, but it looked dark after the bright sunshine outside. It seemed that it could hold about 300 people, and that it was more than half full right then.

Ian addressed the bartender, asking, "So, where do clanners live?"

"Anywhere they want," Cantato answered. "In fact, the members don't even have to live in the same place, as long as they can be contacted quickly. But the Darkstone Area here in Cyril has just been redone and renamed 'Member's Walk'. It's a bunch of tenements and houses made with clanners in mind, so if you don't have a place to stay, go look for one over there. They're filling up more slowly than expected, so the prices have become cheaper. How much money do you have?"

"Uhhhhhh" Ian turned around and pointed questioningly at the others. Peter and Anne both shrugged. Link pulled out of his back pocket a bag of coins, which he jingled as he looked significantly at the others.

"Odd jobs," he explained. "There's 248 in here, or 12400 gil, which is their currency. I suppose we should find a home before we start any mission."

"That's what I would do." Cantato put in. "You came at the wrong time anyway. All requests are taken just now, which is a rare thing, but experience tells me more will come with afternoon, so you had better hurry with your hunt for a suitable edifice. Member's Walk is behind this pub, a bit further on."

They thanked him and went outside and around to the back of the pub. About a block or two ahead, they saw a section of houses made of brand new clay. They didn't have much of a hard time finding a house suited to them. The one that they chose faced south, could fit about eleven, and had three stories, though the third was smaller than the first two. The first floor was cut into two quarters (An entrance room and a kitchen/dining room) and a half (a living room).The second floor had eight rooms, which were cut in half by a narrow hallway that went from one side of the house to the other; on the other side of both strips of rooms were bathrooms. They had built the third, smaller floor later on top of the roof (which, in the latest style, was ridged) as an afterthought. Its hallway was bigger and more oddly shaped; two rooms took up one side of it, a third room was tucked into a corner, a bathroom came out of the middle of the north-facing wall, and opposite it double doors opened onto the roof. These three floors were connected by a spiral stairway right in the center--except in the case of the third hallway, which slid to the front of the building, and so had the staircase nearer to the north wall than the south. Not that close to the pub, but only 8000 gil a month, the house was, all-in-all, nice, albeit empty.

"Too bad it doesn't come with beds and other furniture," Link moaned, looking around inside. "It won't be comfortable."

"We can't afford any right now," Ian reasoned. "We'll have to be satisfied with using blankets as beds for a while."

"If we work really hard," Anne said. "We'll have enough money in no time."

After securing the place for themselves, they returned to the pub to get some missions.

* * *

I made a blueprint of their house, so ask me and I'll put it on on the forums.

Edit: looking over this chapter, I realize that one thing is painfully clear: the unappealing shortness and inertia of this chapter owes it's origin to the layout of the house being told by me, instead of being discovered by the characters as they explore the house. This must be fixed-- right after I finish editing chapters 1 through 7.


	9. Pick a Mission, Any Mission

Sorry for the long wait; I decided to rewrite my story after putting up the last chapter, but I thought that people might want to read what I've already written to tide them over, so to speak (and give you more to critique). And so, here's the next part. crosses fingers and hopes they will last long enough

Chapter 9: Pick a mission, any mission

As Ian, Peter, Anne, and Lincoln entered the main room of the Pub for the second time, Darkness seemed to envelope them again. Apparently this was something one didn't get used to. Once her eyes adjusted and he became visible, Anne asked Cantato, who was still leaning in the same place, "Did any requests get put up while we were gone?"

"Yep," He answered, pointing to a big message board behind him that had many little scribbled notes tacked to it. "Just like I told you." He pointed to the sheet on the counter. "Here's a list I make of the day's missions in summary titles. Just pick one that piques your interest and I'll get down the bill of request itself so you can get all the information."

A pushy Bangaa who had just entered interrupted their conversation, a slip of paper in his hand. "Here, Cantato, put thisss up for me, will ya?"

"Excuse me for a moment," Cantato said to the group before he accepted the slip from the Bangaa and perused it for a minute or two. Then he turned around to the board and placed the slip against it while picking up a nail to stick it, saying, "My pleasure, er, Brack."

The Bangga let out a snicker with a hissy twist and said as he turned to go, "I'm Trept, Cantato. Cousssin isss out of town."

"Sorry, Trept. It's your fault for looking so much alike, though," Cantato replied distractedly, discarding his nail because it had bent when he had pushed it into the board ("Don't make 'em like they used to ever since the blacksmith took on that new apprentice," he muttered).

"Why not let people have direct access to the board?" Anne asked a little impatiently as the door closed behind the Bangaa. "It would be much faster that way."

"There are many useful reasons to keep watch on clan traffic, the most obvious of them being that it keeps you in the know," Cantato answered as he wrote a title for the newest mission on the summary sheet, his eyes twinkling. "Now why don't you hurry up and find some jobs to do?"

As the group looked at different missions, they found that they ranged from battle to negotiation, from hunts to competitions. Nothing--absolutely _nothing_--was too trivial. After handing back many, Ian looked over a request from a mother for help coaxing her son out of the attic, where he was pretending to be a monster who didn't like homework. It sounded so funny that he decided to try it out. He noticed that on all the notes, beneath the contact information, there were sets of numbers in a different, uniform handwriting.

"Hey, Cantato?" Ian asked. "What do those numbers signify?"

"Those are the info prices I write on them," he explained, "the amount you pay me for getting you the information. It's how I make much of my money. Which reminds me..." Cantato pulled out a pen and wrote a price on the slip Trept had given him.

"I see…" Ian said as he looked at his own note's price. "I think I'll take this mission, this one titled 'Spirited Boy'. You have to start somewhere, and this one sounds fun. ...Umm, Lincoln," he asked, turning to him just the slightest bit sheepishly, "could I borrow 400 gil for the fee?"

"Sure," Link answered, as he picked out the right amount of money. "Just so you guys know, this is clan funds, not my own money."

"But you're the one who earned it." Anne pointed out.

"Yeah well, I'm giving it to the clan." Link answered simply. "it needs beginning funds."

"This brings up a question," Peter said thoughtfully. "Will we have personal money or will all we earn go to the clan?"

"That's simple," Link said. "All that we do as a member of our clan, goes to our clan. Though I don't see many other ways we could earn money--"

"Except if Anne wins a beauty contest, which is bound to happen," Ian put in.

Anne shoved Ian. "It would be more flattering if you didn't say the same kinds of things to every girl you've met."

Link bit his lip, trying not to laugh. "It doesn't really allow for personal money," he continued. "But if one of us needs to have a weapon repaired, or if we decide to travel, or if someone just _has _to get the latest accessory," he paused and gave a sideways glance at Anne, "we can just use clan funds."

"Agreed," said the others together. Ian turned, gave Cantato his money, and then left, saying, "See you later, guys."

The others went on looking for missions for themselves. Anne saw one that interested her.

"_Our restaurant, 'The Fragrant Piper', known for its delicious hot cocoa, is celebrating its 25th anniversary the next day. We'll be needing an extra helper for tomorrow." --__Bradlin, resturant owner._

Anne paid for the info and began looking for mission that she could do for the present.

Peter singled out a mission he felt equal to.

"_I just moved here from out of country to live with Aunty and Nuncle. People here don't know about Lemonade, so I wanna start a lemonade stand. Please advertise for me, so everyone will know how good lemonade is!" --Kari, little girl._

While Peter was reading this, Link decided on a job that he thought within his capabilities.

_"An oasis lies out in Gotor Sands with exotic red-scaled fish in it. My late father had put those fish in it some years before, to, as he used to say, 'help this beautiful land become the most beautiful it can be'._Here, several warped spots on the paper betrayed dried tears._ I would like a few fish to remember him by, but am afraid to get some myself because of monsters. Could someone catch a few and bring them to me?" --__Trissa, grieved daughter._

"A bit too sentimental, but I do feel sad for her," Link muttered as he finished reading it.

Anne went over to Peter and Link, who were getting money out of the bag to pay Cantato, so she could hurry and pay too for the second mission she had picked out.

"_My grandson is sick and I daren't leave him for two minutes, so I can't go out to the market to buy the medical herbs I need. I only just had time to fly over here and put up this request. Would someone please bring me some muscmaloi and swerte, one pound each, to treat him with?" --__Hashinya, anxious next-door grandmother._

They gave Cantato his money, and went outside, where they separated, promising to see each other in the evening.


End file.
